


Heal His Wounds

by misslizanne



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-27
Updated: 2013-12-27
Packaged: 2018-01-06 09:10:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,289
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1105025
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/misslizanne/pseuds/misslizanne





	Heal His Wounds

Henry had been wandering around the deck of the ship, as Emma watched  Neal rattle off stories of him being on the ship as a young boy, learning about the stars and the sea from the infamous Captain Hook. She glanced around, noticing that someone was missing. Someone who should probably be telling these stories as well. _Hook_.

She wandered down below deck, heading for her cot in one of the sailors cabins. She couldn't wait to be back in Storybrooke, to be in her own bed... to be _home_. But she intended to find Hook, find out why he was purposefully missing. She continued walking, checking each room as she headed down the hallways. She was startled when she heard some cluttering below her. She crouched, glancing down the steep ladder to see Hook, sitting in the captain's quarters, at a small table perched next to his bed.

She stared for a while, noticing how small the room was, taking in the faint smell of rum and pine, her eyes lingering at the sight of his modestly simple bed, dressed in plain salmon colored sheets and a rather elaborate quilt. It's the most color she'd seen associated with Hook and she wondered if there was more to this man than black leather and revenge (although part of her already knew there was a real man underneath the facade and the silly moniker). She glanced by the windows, noticing the books covered with dust. They looked like they hadn't been moved in centuries, all of them meticulously stacked on top of one another, small trinkets donning the top of each pile, goblets of all sorts cluttering the space next to them. Her eyes moved towards the ornate wood sculptures attached to the large wooden beams hanging over his bed and then towards the small table, pushed up against the wall, with Hook staring towards the windows, sipping rum from his flask. The tiniest bit of moonlight shown through them, causing the overgrown stubble on his face to glimmer.

She felt her mouth dry up, as a small cough accidentally escaped her throat. Hook startled, his head darting towards her, his hand dropping his flask and reaching for his sword, his whole body tense and rigid.

"Oh, my lady," he stated apologetically, relaxing his firm grip on the handle of his sword. "I did not know it was you."

She waved her hand in front of her, apologizing silently for causing him distress. "I was just... uh, heading to the sailors cabins," she stated, climbing down the stairs and walking towards the table, pulling a chair out to sit with him. Instinctively, he handed his flask over, studying her as she took a giant swig of rum. She handed it back to him, chuckling lightly. He raised an eyebrow, cocking his head sideways in confusion, silently asking her why she was here when she should be with her boy.

"So these are the infamous 'captain's quarters?'" she jested, perfectly copying his typical Captain Hook smirk.

"Aye, that they are," he responded, playing along with her. "Were you expecting something else, darling?"

She nodded, glancing around at the room. "Well, I wasn't expecting it to be so..."

"Small?" He interrupted her, causing her eyes to dart towards his face.

"Yeah," she stated quietly, watching as his faced turned from the sincere, honorable man to the spicy gentlemen she had grown fond of.

"What were you expecting, love?" he asked in a gruff tone, his usual devious smirk causing her breath to hitch.

Her eyelashes fluttered, as she shook her head, trying to shake off the lump in her throat and the nervous feeling in her stomach. "Oh, I don't know. Maybe a large mahogany bed or something, lots of gold. You _are_ a pirate," she responded, smiling when he chuckled at her lavish rendering of his room.

They sat in silence for a moment, both taking turns sipping his treasured rum, comfortably enjoying one another's company. But Emma had this nagging feeling in the back of her mind, like something was wrong, like there was something else he wasn't telling her.

"Was this Liam's room?" she finally asked, her voice thin, a small crack appearing when she uttered his brother's name. He glanced up at her from behind the flask, placing it down on the table, sighing in relief.

"Aye, that it was," he said. He sounded so fragile, and she wanted nothing more than to heal him, to make it alright. She didn't push further, afraid he would throw his walls back up. _God, we're so much alike_ , she thought, reaching a hand out to touch his. He jolted a little bit, staring down at their entwined hands, before looking up into her eyes.

Hook gulped loudly, trembling as he spoke. "He... uh... my brother," he stammered, and she shifted her chair closer to him, resting her other hand on his cheek. "Shh, you don't have to tell me," she whispered, soothing his worn face, brushing her thumb over the scar below his eye.

He smiled weakly, closing his eyes and leaning into her warm touch, content with just staying there for an eternity. "Liam died in here," he finally spoke, squeezing his eyes tightly. He was terrified that if he opened them, the well of tears he had thought were shut off would burst uncontrollably. Emma continued to brush her fingers over his face, her palm cupping his jawline. She squeezed his hand gently, causing his eyes to open slowly.

So much pain, so much sorrow, all trapped in his stormy blue eyes. They were growing misty and Emma feared she wouldn't be able to fix him... to ever heal him. He was so broken, so vulnerable, so _lost_. She moved her hands to the back his neck, letting go of his hand. He gasped at the loss of her touch, but she distracted him by pulling him closer to her in an embrace, linking both of her arms around his neck. He nuzzled his head into the crook of her neck, his coarse stubble scratching her skin through her turtleneck. She pulled him into her, holding him as tight as possible, as if anything less wouldn't seem right. He held his breath, anxiously holding back the tears, the anguish, the pain of what had happened in here.

She brought a hand up to his hair, brushing it softly with her fingertips, soothing him with her graceful touch and the faint murmur of shushing. He seemed to have relaxed, his breathing noticeably calmer and the thud of his heartbeat vibrating less against her ribcage. She pulled away slightly, letting her hands linger in their previous position. Their faces were close to one another, close enough that she could smell the rum on his breath and he could feel the cool tickle of her exhale on his sea-blistered skin.

She leaned in to rest her forehead on his, closing her eyes. "I'm sorry," was all she could muster, whispering it so softly, he almost didn't hear it. He nodded, knowing that her saying it wouldn't make the pain go away, wouldn't make Liam come back. And yet, he felt relieved, that finally he could let it go and accept the fact that Liam was gone. He felt a sharp sting in his heart, as he remembered Liam collapsing, him holding his brother close to his chest, rocking his brother back and forth, sobbing in anguish as the life washed away from his brother's gaze. But now he smiled, resting his head against her, his _Emma,_ feeling unbelievably hopeful and cared for and _loved_. He felt his heart swell as he realized she would be the one to heal his wounds.


End file.
